A Father's Duty
by Demon Eyes Laharl
Summary: Nothing was going right for Jaune. Weiss and Neptune getting closer awakened an uncomfortable emotion he thought he had buried long ago. Not only that, his father had found out he was at Beacon and demanded him to return home. Faced with the risk of expulsion once again, Jaune has to dig deep inside of him to weather the storm. However, not all was what it seems.—AU/MinorCrossover—
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"No," Jaune Arc whispered as he shook his head. In front of him were two figures, both his age. The male figure with light-blue hair stood confidently as he gazed into the eyes of the love of Jaune's life.

"Please," he added.

His love's cold, pale-blue eyes shifted to him, a cruel smile on her delicate lips as her current partner moved his arms, embracing her waist. She looked away, back to the boy with blue hair, and her hands made their way to his shoulder, encircling his neck.

"Snow Angel…"

The two young men spoke simultaneously, one with affection, the other as a plea. Her eyes went to Jaune when he spoke, narrowing into a stare, but softened significantly when she returned to gaze at her partner, her smile lighting up the room.

Without a word, they began to move away. Jaune growled as he tried to stand, but he couldn't get his knees to cooperate. They sat underneath him, unmoving. His arms were of no help either, feeling heavy, tired, and defeated. Before long, he stopped struggling, and stared in numb horror as the girl he loved walked away with another man.

A moment later, she turned back to him. He felt his chest lighten, a small smile threatening to escape his lips. However, the feeling of hope died when she gave him a disgusted look, continuing to walk away, fading from sight as they went.

Jaune squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears from escaping. He called out to the darkness, but nothing answered his pleas. Then he felt something shatter inside him. From there, a spark sprang to life, building into a fiery crescendo. He growled, his body finally obeying his will. Forcing himself upright, he screamed as his hands clenched into fists, and then ran after them.

There was no telling how fast he moved, how far he went, or how long it was before he saw them. They were no longer clothed, no longer ashamed of each other. Their embrace hurt. Their kiss tortured him. Then, they looked at him, daring him to do something.

So he did. Stretching his arm towards them, his fingers formed into a claw. He would end—

"Jaune!"

He gasped, eyes snapping open. He took a few moments to breathe, shaking his head slowly as the light of the world finally registered, color filling his world once more.

It took him a few seconds to realize he was in bed, warm under his ultra cozy bunny onesies. The familiar scent of his partner, a comfortable mix of flowers and cinnamon, calmed his beating heart. He took a deep breath before finally settling down.

"I'm awake," he whispered, looking to his left. His partner sighed, nodding before removing the hand that had been shaking his shoulder. "I'm awake, Pyrrha," he repeated.

"You had me worried for a minute," she admitted as she stood straighter. Judging by her now-messy red hair and crumpled night clothes, she had only woken up just recently. "Nightmare?"

"Yeah," he replied, shaking his head before sitting up. He turned to her with a frown. "Was it that bad?"

"You were growling," she replied, frown present once more as she unconsciously rubbed her right arm, "thrashing your arms wildly."

Something nasty brewed in his stomach. "Did… did I hurt you?"

Pyrrha shook her head immediately. "Of course not."

Jaune frowned before shaking his head once more. Taking another deep breath, he looked at Pyrrha and asked, "What time is it?"

"Six."

Jaune nodded before looking around him. He spotted one of his teammates, still sleeping in bed, his black hair looking a little ruffled, while the bed beside the sleeping figure was empty. "Where's Nora?"

"She took the first shower," Pyrrha replied. "You woke us both up. She wanted to return the favor in her… own way, but I convinced her to let me do it instead."

Jaune shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Thank you, Pyrrha. What would I do without you?"

His partner simply smiled in reply.

* * *

Jaune yawned as he exited the classroom, prompting his orange-haired teammate to jump in front of him.

"Are you sure you're okay, fearless leader?" she asked.

"I'm fine, Nora," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I guess still a little tired."

"Tired?" his black-haired teammate asked, an amused smile present. "From one of Professor Port's lectures?"

"Well, to be fair, Jauney wasn't sleeping in this time, Ren," Nora replied as she jumped back besides her partner. "Which is odd, now that I think about it."

He flinched. Pyrrha's eyebrows scrunched as she asked, "Are you still thinking about your nightmare, Jaune?"

He shook his head quickly, giving them a small smile. "Of course not."

His three teammates looked at him with varying reactions. Nora seemed unconvinced, her eyes narrowing at him suspiciously while Pyrrha's frown deepened. Ren, at least, looked somewhat satisfied at his reply.

"We're here for you, Jaune," he said, smiling and patting him once on the back.

"Thanks, guys," Jaune replied. Then, to change the subject, asked, "So, what is our next class again?"

"Combat Training," Pyrrha replied.

"Great," Jaune muttered. "Another day, another humiliating session in front of the class."

"Well, the students of the other Academies are allowed to join this time," Nora said excitedly, pumping her fists back and forth. "So that's something, right?"

Jaune only groaned, covering his face with both hands.

"That didn't help, Nora," Ren said with an amused undertone in his voice.

"All I'm saying is that maybe Goodwitch will pick one of them for our fearless leader to fight," Nora defended. "I mean, there has to be someone that Jaune can beat, right?"

Pyrrha took a step forward, hesitating for less than a second before settling her hands on Jaune's shoulders.

He sighed, lowering his hands, but leaving his head hanging. "Let's just… go," he said, shuffling forward.

"Was it something I said?" Nora whispered.

Even with him trying to delay the inevitable, Jaune and his team got to Goodwitch's class pretty early, and were able to choose whatever seats they wanted.

Jaune's mood lifted somewhat as he watched his teammates trying to figure out where to sit. Nora, as usual, went for a front row seat, while Ren opted for the one near the exit.

"But Ren!" Nora protested, pointing at her favored place. "Don't you want the clearest and best view of the fight?"

"The slanted nature of the room gives a clear view of the ring no matter where you are," her best friend countered calmly. "Besides, we know Goodwitch will call on Jaune. At least he'll be closer to the lockers."

"Oh Fearless Leader," Nora crooned, crossing her arms.

Jaune rolled his eyes and replied as he always did. "Ren's got a point."

"Boo!" Nora replied and lashed her tongue out at him. "You never take my side, Jaune-Jaune! You owe me pancakes!"

"I'll have Ren cook you some," he replied, earning a roll of eyes from his other male teammate.

"Okay!" she declared, giving him a thumbs-up.

Jaune only smiled. He didn't know why they had the same song and dance every time they argued seating placements, especially in Goodwitch's class. Ren was always correct in assuming the Professor would have Jaune fight. A darker part of Jaune's mind theorized that Goodwitch knew he had entered Beacon Academy illegitimately, and by having him beaten every class was not only a means to expose him, but also punish him for cheating his way in.

He had said that to Pyrrha, one of only two other people that knew his secret, several times. She had never failed to remind him that he shouldn't assume the worse about their teachers.

The last time he had complained, she gave him an amused look whilst saying, "She's only helping you improve."

While she had a point, he still thought he was right.

As they took their seats near the center-top of the classroom, the door opened revealing Team RWBY. The sight of them made his stomach clench.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, looking at him with a slight frown.

He glanced at his partner before shaking his head. "It's… nothing."

She pursed her lips, but didn't say anything as Jaune returned his gaze to the leader of Team RWBY, Ruby Rose. With a bounce in her step, her black, red-tipped hair flowing freely around her, she entered the room with a smile, chatting idly with her older sister, Yang Xiao Long. The taller girl listened while delicately moving a stray strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear. Whatever Ruby said seemed to resonate with Yang as the latter turned to her partner, the mostly silent and aloof Blake Belladonna, and grinned. Said partner scoffed, rolling her seemingly-glowing amber eyes as she returned with something short.

The last member of the team, the one Jaune had not been looking forward to seeing, was oddly absent.

"Guys!" Nora called, waving her hand.

Ruby responded in kind as her team made their way to them. "Hey!"

A small smile formed on Jaune's lips. "A little early, aren't you?"

"Look who's talking, Vomit Boy," Yang answered with a smirk of her own. "Did you guys just walk straight here from Port's nap-time class?"

"Yup," Nora replied with her own smile. "If you arrived any later, we would have stolen your usual seats, slow-pokes."

"Psh, dream on," the blonde replied. "You guys always go for the same place. Boyfriend won the argument again?"

Nora turned bright red for only a second before she waved her hand carelessly. "Psh! We're not—!"

"Together-together, yeah yeah," the blonde said, though touting a small victorious smile.

Jaune just smiled at their antics, but Yang seemed to think his gaze lingered a little longer than appropriate. The blonde smirked at him, causing him to swallow.

"Like something you see, Lady Killer?" his fellow blonde asked, placing a hand on the side of her jutted, generous hips whilst giving him a saucy wink.

Jaune rolled his eyes before averting his gaze. He couldn't hide the slight flush of his cheeks completely, though, and began studying Blake, concentrating on her long black hair and the peculiar bow which hid her cat ears. It wasn't too long ago when Team RWBY shared the fact that she was a faunus, and while he had no problems with that, he was always curious what they looked like. She glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. His eyes widened before he forced himself to smile, scratching the nape of his neck. He gave her a nod of greeting, which she returned automatically before looking away.

"Where's… Weiss?" Jaune asked carefully.

"Ice Queen should be here soon," Yang replied with an annoyed tone and shrug. "Wanted to invite someone apparently."

A hand squeezed Jaune's heart, making him take a deep breath before replying with, "Oh."

No sooner did he say that then she entered the classroom.

To Jaune, Weiss was the image of absolute beauty. Whether because she was always immaculately dressed, or due to the elegance of her stature, he couldn't decide. He found his eyes wandering towards her long, beautiful silver-white ponytail before glancing at her light-blue eyes that sparkled with life as her smile seemed to bring the sun inside the enclosed room. Her pale skin, with a sprinkle of light pink dust on her cheeks, glowed with such sheen that left him breathless of her allure.

He wanted to wave and shout a greeting at her, but held his hand and tongue. The dream he had this morning still painfully present in his mind. Oh, he knew she would never be deliberately cruel as she was in his dream, but he couldn't deny the possibility. While used to her cold rejection of his every wooing attempt, he dared not stoke her temper now.

Especially since her bright mood was mostly because she entered with _him_ beside her.

"Hey, it's Neptune!" Nora declared.

The young man beside Weiss looked a bit surprised being called out, but he took it in stride. Brushing his light-blue hair upwards with a swipe of his hand, he gave them all a smile of greeting.

"Hello there," he replied smoothly with a quick wink.

"Why, hello to you as well," Pyrrha greeted back curiously. "We haven't seen your team come here before."

"Well, Snow Angel invited me," Neptune replied, earning a wide smile from Weiss.

Jaune scowled. She never smiled like that when he first called her that. In fact, anything Neptune did, always brought the opposite reaction compared to when he had done it to Weiss first.

"Does that mean Sun is coming?" Blake asked stoically, though her cheeks colored slightly.

"Don't know," Neptune replied with a shrug. "Didn't see him this morning."

Jaune just nodded neutrally before trying to close himself from the world. And failing. As Team RWBY plus one took their usual seats near the fighting ring, his eyes narrowed towards Weiss and Neptune.

"They're laying it on a little thick, aren't they?" Nora asked in a stage-whisper to Ren. Said boy replied with just a roll of his eyes, but Jaune couldn't help but agree.

Neptune had smoothly laid his arm across Weiss' shoulders, which earned him the demure, almost hesitant action of her laying her head on his. Even as the classroom slowly filled up, he ignored it to watch them with obsessive curiosity.

At some point, Professor Goodwitch had strode into the classroom. He ignored her, continuing to watch the couple's interactions. Names were called, duels were fought, but his eyes never left them. He watched as Weiss giggled shyly at something Neptune said as she absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her finger. He also noted that ever since Neptune got the ghost of a kiss on her cheek, their hands had been affixed to each other.

Jaune knew he really shouldn't have continued watching. Especially when the uncomfortable clench of his stomach was overwhelmed by the fire that blazed in his heart. Especially when his muscles stiffened, and his trembling fists began to ache.

However, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha's voice suddenly penetrated his brain as he blinked and looked at her. She just pointed towards Professor Goodwitch, who was staring daggers at him.

"Mister Arc, are you back with us now?" she demanded firmly as she affixed her glasses before slamming her riding crop into the palm of her free hand.

"Y-yes ma'am," he replied hastingly.

"Then get ready," she said. "You and Mister Winchester are up next."

The fire faded. The only thing left was the feeling of his stomach, which now turned inward as he felt everything sink into a bottomless pit. Glancing at his team, he saw Nora giving him a thumbs-up while both Pyrrha and Ren gave him small, supportive smiles. He gave them a brittle grin and made his way to the exit.

At the lockers, he noted Cardin was already done donning his usual grey plate armor over his black clothes and was now testing the balance of his mace with both his hands. The bigger, oranged-haired boy looked at him.

"Hey, Cardin," Jaune greeted softly.

"Arc," he responded before completely ignoring him.

Jaune nodded and moved past him, deeper into the room. As he reached his locker and opened it to get his things, he couldn't help but glance at Cardin every now and then. It wasn't that long ago when the bigger boy had inadvertently found his secret. Cardin and his team had been bullying him before that, and it only got worse when they learned of his situation. They forced him to be their gopher boy until the events of their field trip at the Forever Fall forest.

When he had defended Cardin and decapitated the Ursa attacking them with a single stroke of his sword.

They had left him alone after that, Cardin having muttered something about him earning their respect. Didn't mean they were friends, or even prevented Cardin from doing his best to beat Jaune into submission everytime Professor Goodwitch called them to fight. Still, Jaune thought wryly as he strapped on his armor, the situation was under better control than before.

He did his final check on his weapon, Crocea Mors, a simple sword with a sheath that unfolded into a kite shield. Not that he needed it. The simplicity of its design made it much more reliable than the more modern weapons.

Still, Jaune wished his weapon had some ranged options, or at least could incorporate Dust.

With both boys ready, they returned to the classroom, and went straight to the fighting circle, Goodwitch synced their Aura levels to the holographic screen floating above them for the whole class to see. She also began to explain the rules, a constant that Jaune chose to ignore. Instead, he looked at his opponent.

Cardin watched him steadily, ready to dish out punishment as per usual. Forcing a swallow, Jaune tried to calm his nerves by turning to look at his teammates. Instead, he found himself looking at Team RWBY. He saw Yang shouting for him to kick ass while Ruby and Blake were holding little flags with his name on them. The former waved hers enthusiastically, while the latter moved hers half-heartedly.

At least Blake was still cheering for him, Jaune thought darkly as he spotted the last member of the team.

Weiss ignored the brewing battle below, all her attention on Neptune. Even though the guy was looking down at the fight about to start, her eyes never left his face, the smile ever present on her lips.

The nervousness vanished as the fire reignited inside him, burning into something ugly, into something… familiar. Part of Jaune knew he should smother it before it took root, but he ignored it as he continued to stare at pale girl.

"Mister Arc!" Goodwitch called, her voice far away. He turned to her, expression blank.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I asked if you were ready."

"I am," he replied, swallowing once more.

Professor Goodwitch looked at him for a few more seconds before nodding. "Then, let the match begin!"

Cardin wasn't the only one surprised when Jaune rushed at him, sword drawn and at the ready; almost everyone at the class gasped at his actions. Anyone that knew Jaune Arc expected him to fight defensively—raising his shield and waiting for his opponent to move. Him going on the offensive, not even unfolding his shield, was so far off the usual that it almost caught Cardin off guard.

Almost.

Using the length of his mace to block the initial strike, Cardin redirected the force of Jaune's blow to the side as he moved in the opposite direction. Smart move as the blonde's next strike was a horizontal cleave to Cardin's mid-section. By dodging the clumsy blow, Cardin turned the tide of the battle.

Even though Cardin was surprised by the first two blows, it quickly turned into disappointment when the blond swordsman began flailing his weapon around carelessly. Strong strikes to be sure, but utterly devoid of technique.

While he considered Arc to be a poor fighter, even on his better days, the little skill Nikos had managed to drill into him seemed to have completely vanished.

Cardin didn't even need to try. Jaune was tying the noose around his neck more effectively than Cardin ever could. It wasn't long before the blond finally overextended to the point that he couldn't recover when the bigger man moved in for the kill.

With just one swipe, the mace hit Jaune squarely on his exposed side. If it hadn't been for the blond's Aura, the impact would have shattered his ribcage and crushed his internal organs. Instead, the blonde boy flew to the edge of the ring, almost earning him another loss.

Jaune huffed as he used his sword to support him as he tried to stand up, the pain in his side overwhelming. He stared at his opponent, a little surprised that Cardin didn't seem interested in rushing him, to take advantage of his position. Instead, the bigger boy eyed him curiously before he turned towards the audience. He spotted Weiss and Neptune, and an expression of understanding formed on the former bully's face. When he looked back at Jaune, it changed to something more pitying.

For some reason, that just added fuel to the fire already burning inside Jaune. In his fury, he stole a glance once more to Weiss, hoping beyond anything that she would at least deign to look at him, to watch him, maybe even support him.

She was still staring at Neptune as if he was the only important thing in the world.

Jaune grit his teeth, the fire inside him now overwhelming his reason. He growled animalistically, the world around him gaining a yellowish hue. He roared, dropping his sword as he stood up and dashed at Cardin, fists at the ready.

The stupid expression on the former bully's face as Jaune flew at him was exquisite, and the feeling when his fist smashed into Cardin's face was even more so. He continued his flurry, his fists flying to the bigger boy's midsection. He ignored Cardin's counter, the mace that had sent him reeling before, now felt like a feather hitting his head. With a last shout, he raised his knee stomach-high before lashing out with a kick to Cardin's chest, sending him flying.

Jaune growled, preparing to jump after him, only to feel himself hit a solid purple barrier. He turned his head, knowing only one person that could do that, his fist ready to fight her off.

"Winner by ring-out, Jaune Arc," she declared, staring at him as if he had grown a second head.

He felt the rage suddenly leave him, eyes widening in horror as he realized what had happened. He stared around him, noticing that it wasn't just Professor Goodwitch giving him strange looks. Almost everyone of his year was standing up, looking down at him with a mixture of emotions. He saw Pyrrha's eyes wide as saucers, Nora grinning widely, while Ren frowned. Even team RWBY was looking at him oddly. Ruby was gaping at him, Yang's eyes glittering with some sort of interest, and Blake's usual blank expression was anything but.

Weiss… she only stared at him with a mixture of confusion and a bit of wonderment. Finally, she was paying attention to him. If only because he did something awful.

"Excuse me," he said to Professor Goodwitch before dashing away. She yelled something, but he ignored her, knowing what was coming after his bout of rage.

Dashing through the exit, ignoring everyone around him, he made his way to the bathroom, to an empty stall, and waited. He waited for the cold of fever to penetrate his bones, for the tired weakness to seep into his muscle… for the painful coughing that was strong enough to expel blood.

He waited until he realized the sickness wasn't coming. He blinked, staring at his arms as they shook. His eyes glistened for a moment, tears building up. Emotions began to swell inside him, fear, triumph, anger, happiness, mixing together in a cocktail that left him dazed and confused.

Why did it not come? Especially when it did so readily all those years ago, before he promised that he would never lose himself to it anymore? He stayed in the stall for who knew how long, still expecting the symptoms to appear, only snapping out of it when someone knocked on the door.

"Jaune?" Ren's voice asked from the other side of the door. "Are you okay?"

"No," he croaked out. "Yes. Maybe."

There was a slight pause before Ren continued. "Congratulations by the way."

"For what?" Jaune asked in a daze.

Again, there was a pause. "For winning your first duel."

"I… yeah, thanks." This time, he initiated the third pause before saying, "Ren… can you come back later? I'm not feeling too good."

"Do you need to go to Medical?" Ren asked. "Or I can whip something up for you."

Jaune chuckled, forgetting his fears for the moment. "No way I'm drinking anything you make."

Ren replied in kind as well before adding, "Everybody's a critic."

"It's your own damn fault," Jaune accused lightly.

"Opinions."

As Jaune's mirth faded, he touched the door that separated them. "I just… need some time. Can you tell Pyrrha and Nora that for me? Please?"

He could hear the shift in fabric on the other side, making him wonder what Ren was doing. After a while, he received another inquiry. "What you did earlier, Jaune… was that your Semblance? Have you finally found it?"

"That," Jaune replied sharply, "was a mistake. Something I will never, ever repeat."

"I… understand," Ren replied hesitatingly. "Come back soon, okay? We need our leader, after all."

"Yeah. Will do."

He heard Ren slowly walk away, probably waiting for his leader to call him back. Jaune remained silent, even when the door finally opened and he heard Nora ask, "Hey, where's Jauney?"

"Is he okay?" Pyrrha chimed in as well.

"He's asked for some privacy," Ren replied.

Jaune blinked when he suddenly heard Yang ask, "He's not vomiting, is he?"

"Yang!" Ruby's voice also surprised him. "He's not hurt, right? Cardin hit him pretty good on the head."

"He ignored it completely, though!" Nora replied. "Was that his Semblance?"

"I want to know as well!" Yang interjected. "It looked a hell of a lot like mine!"

The voices, thankfully, faded. It seemed Ren was able to divert their attention away from him, at least for now. Or maybe it was because Jaune was in the boy's bathroom and the unspoken rule prevented the girls from just barging in. He didn't want anyone take an interest in how he beat Cardin. Especially not _that_. Granted, he seemed to avoid the cost that it brought, but he didn't want to bet that it would remain that way.

His luck, after all, wasn't that good.

So he stayed in that stall, taking deep breaths, waiting for a sign to tell him it was fine to stop worrying. That it was fine to leave the stall.

It came unexpectedly from a ringtone from his scroll.

Blinking, Jaune paused for a moment, letting the music play for a moment before he took his scroll out. Pressing on the yellow diamond button at the center, he extended the scroll, only for his eyes to widen and mouth open when he saw the name of his caller. He pressed on holographic screen before placing one end of the scroll on his ear.

"Hello?" he asked unsurely, not knowing why he would call now, at all times.

Silence was his reply. Jaune wondered if the caller had made a mistake, maybe butt-dialed him, but after a few more seconds, he heard a hard voice reply from the other side.

"Boy."

Jaune felt ice climb up his spine. That word, in that tone… that only happened when he was about to receive punishment.

"F-father?" he asked.

"Time to go home," was the reply.

Jaune swallowed. "Um, go home?" he asked. "I can ask some time off, I guess, but work is really busy—"

"Do you take me for a fool, boy?" the hard voice interrupted. "Did you think your lies would never be uncovered?"

"L-lies, Father?"

"Your stay at Beacon has come to an end."

Jaune paled.

"Did you hear me?" his father asked. "It's time to go home, boy."

Jaune licked his lips, cold sweat forming on his forehead. His thoughts ran back to his team, with Ren's earlier words resonating with him, giving him strength. After what seemed like days, he grit his teeth. "No."

There was a short pause on the other line. "What did you say?"

"I said no, Father," Jaune replied, a bit more solidly this time. "I won't leave Beacon. I'm needed here. My team needs me here."

"They need a fraud and cheat with them?"

Jaune flinched once more. "I'm improving. I'm no longer sick. I can… I just won a duel earlier." He took a breath. "I am also a team leader."

"What you are is an untrained boy who has not realized he's too big for his britches. Does becoming a team leader, as you claim, erase the fact that you forged your documents to gain entrance to an Academy? Have you not realized the risk that you put, not only yourself, but those that follow you, in?" His father snorted. "Of course you don't. Listen to me. Pack your things. Take the next flight home. Do not let your arrogant mistake cause irreparable damage."

Jaune shook his head sharply. "I'm sorry, Father, but I can't do that."

"Then you've forced my hand, boy. See you soon."

With that, he heard the line cut.

Jaune stared at his scroll, eyes wide. Hands shaking as he folded his scroll back to its original form and pocketing it, he stared at the ceiling.

His father knew he was at Beacon. That meant that either the rest of his family knew as well, or were about to find out. He swallowed nervously, realizing what could come next.

Part of him hoped they weren't too angry at his deception. The last thing he needed was for them to come at Beacon and drag him away.

He needed time, to prepare and to build support. Depending on the flight schedules, his father would be here within the week. That gave him a few days. He needed to find people to back him up. His first thought was to inform his team. There was no way to hide it anymore. He might have had Pyrrha's support, but his two other teammates did not know the true nature of his entrance in Beacon. He would need to tell them.

He opened the stall, staring at the mirror in front of him. Opening the faucet, he splashed cold water in his face.

Jaune was pretty sure he could get Nora on his side. Quirky, cheerful, she had always been someone that followed his lead. Then again, if she was offended by his less-than-honest entrance to Beacon though, he would face the full force of her explosive violence. She would probably not be satisfied by just breaking his legs with that enormous hammer of hers.

Unless he could get Ren to his side as well. Oddly enough, he wasn't sure how his male teammate would react. Something about Ren gave him pause when it came to something like this. Sure, they were in friendly enough terms, but the calm, studious boy always felt like he hid something big beneath the surface.

He shook his head. If he was having trouble trying to convince his team, he didn't dare think about how RWBY would react.

Jaune sighed. Ruby was going to be disappointed. Insulted, maybe. She was a prodigy that had been given early admission to the Academy after showing her fighting skills by deterring a known criminal. She was also someone who worked hard to live her dream. She wouldn't have dared to even think of cheating her way through. Even if she wasn't going to be affronted, Yang would definitely be and she would let her fists do the talking.

Blake Belladonna… well, he doubted anything would change between them.

Weiss. Oh, Weiss, Jaune thought. He didn't even dare predict her reaction. Would she be aggrieved, or dismiss him even more? He didn't want to experience either of those.

In fact, as he walked out of the door, he thought about talking to Cardin and his team first. Maybe they would understand his situation. They already knew his secret, after all.

He snorted. He must be desperate if he was thinking of asking—

"Mister Arc."

Jaune froze, realizing that someone was still waiting for him at exit of the bathroom. Arms folded around her chest, Professor Goodwitch stared at him behind her oval spectacles, making him stand in attention.

"Professor?" he asked.

"The Headmaster requests your presence in his office. Immediately."

"I, uh, okay," he replied, before he realized something. "Um, Professor, I forgot my weapons—"

"Your team has collected them for you," Goodwitch said before turning sharply. "Now, come."

Taking a second before following her, Jaune took a moment to look at his surroundings. Students walked along the hallways, some stopping to point at him. He stiffened his shoulders and looked ahead, not wanting to see anything from their gaze. After every so often, he would steal glances at the Professor, uncomfortable at her silence.

After a few minutes, both of them stopped at the elevator leading up to the Headmaster's office. She got out her scroll, pushed at the display, and the door opened. She stepped inside, then turned to look at him silently. Jaune took a breath before stepping forward, and the doors slipped shut behind him, leaving the two alone at last. He looked at her nervously once more before shaking his head.

"Excuse me, Professor," Jaune ventured, "but do you know what Professor Ozpin wants?"

Goodwitch just gave him a cold stare before looking away, making Jaune take a deep breath.

After what seemed like hours, the doors finally opened, revealing Ozpin in the center of the room, sitting behind his desk, eyes down as he studied something in his scroll. As Jaune took a step forward, he noted the odd noise of grinding metal and looked up. His jaw dropped at the sight of huge intertwined gears, moving at a sedate pace. He stepped further into the room, slowly turning in a circle to gaze at the inner workings of the giant clocktower, each piece working in tandem, doing mysterious work.

He tried to look further, deeper into the odd mechanical workings of the office's aesthetics, when Professor Goodwitch called his attention again.

"Mister Arc."

He blinked before returning to the present, looking at her with an apologetic look. "Sorry."

He moved to her side, the fascination of his surroundings not quite leaving him as he stole a few more glances before someone called his attention again. This time, though, it wasn't Goodwitch.

"Jaune Arc, leader of Team JNPR."

Jaune turned to Ozpin. He wasn't quite sure how to react to him, having only met him a handful of times. His first impression of the older man was that he was eccentric, and not all there. The silver hair denoted his age, enforced with the way he held his walking cane, yet his face was still somewhat youthful. He didn't know if it was because of the his mostly neutral expression or because he wore a pair of pretty fancy small, dark circular glasses.

However, Ozpin's expression was far from neutral this time, and his eyes were far sharper than the last time Jaune saw him.

"Yes, Professor Ozpin?" he asked.

Ozpin double-tapped on his scroll and a bunch of holographic screens sprang to life behind him. Jaune blinked for a moment, eyes going towards the files being presented before they widened as he recognized what was on display.

They were the documents he had submitted to enter Beacon Academy. His forged transcripts.

"I think you owe us an explanation, don't you agree?" Ozpin asked softly.

* * *

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Thus my first chapter into the RWBY-verse. Short story, six chapters. Drafts are done. However, the reason for the delay is pretty much life. I've been really busy and that exacerbated my writer's block. It didn't help that my beta-reader and editor is also busy in real life. If anyone is interested in helping me out, I welcome it. PM me if you're interested. Or email me at demoneyeslaharl at googlemail. I use Google Docs, and I have a link that will allow people to comment. I mostly have problems with maintaining tenses and have odd word usage. Insights on how story flow works also is appreciated. Enjoy the story, guys!_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Notes:_** _No Beta for this one, so expect many errors. I'll try to keep those to the minimum, but it's kinda hard as my eyes seem to wash over the stories. Eh. As for anyone following The Red Knight, I'm putting up a few drafts, but still unsure when I can write for it full time. Thanks, and enjoy._

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

"Take a seat, Mister Arc," the Headmaster offered, motioning towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. "You look a little pale."

Jaune swallowed before nodding nervously. Wobbling forward, he didn't as much take a seat, but dropped and sank onto the furniture. He thought Goodwitch was going to sit beside him, but the deputy headmistress opted to go behind the desk beside her fellow professor. Her glare never ceded.

He could feel his heart trying to jump out of his chest. He wasn't even breathing through the nose anymore, making a soft, if ragged sound through his throat. He looked at his two teachers while his hands squeezed his knees.

"So, now that we are comfortable," Ozpin began, "shall we discuss your transcripts?"

"Uh, s-sure," Jaune replied. "Is there something wrong with them, sir?"

The sound of a cracking whip made the blond jump. His eyes went straight towards Goodwitch, her riding crop having just slammed on Ozpin's table. Her lips formed an ugly frown. "Mister Arc, I suggest you try not to play us for fools. We know your transcripts are forged."

Jaune's mouth opened but closed almost immediately, his knuckles turning almost as white as his face.

"Mister Arc?" Ozpin called. "Can you explain yourself?"

The blond's pupils darted from left to right, head shaking slightly. After minutes of silence, he took a deep breath before he bowed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, trying to ignore the stinging of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he repeated a little louder.

"So you can't even defend yourself," Goodwitch declared coldly.

Jaune gritted his teeth before swallowing. "It's… it's true," he said softly. "I had my transcripts forged. There are no excuses."

After that confession, he kept quiet, his head still bowed, dread climbing up his stomach. He waited, what seemed like hours, for a response. The oddly oppressive silence was of no help. He just waited for the inevitable blade to come down on his neck.

"Look at me, Mister Arc," Ozpin declared.

It took him a moment, but Jaune did just that. He blinked when he saw Ozpin giving him a sympathetic look.

"Will you indulge this old man's curiosity?" the Headmaster asked gently. When Jaune nodded hesitantly, he continued. "Why did you come to Beacon?"

"T-to be a hero, sir," Jaune replied honestly, curiosity tinging his tone. After a moment, he added with a stronger tone, "To help people."

"An admirable goal," Ozpin admitted.

Goodwitch scoffed, which earned her a gentle reprimanding look from the Headmaster.

"I… yeah," Jaune replied, unsure. "It… it had always been my dream."

The two professors just stared at him and he found himself looking back without hesitation. Ozpin then began to type something on his scroll, and after one final push, the screens that showed his transcripts faded, replaced with something else. Jaune saw grades, essays, and even a video of his spars in Combat Training.

"Your first month in Beacon," Ozpin began, "was one of constant underperformance. Your academics were passable, but your fighting skills were definitely poor. However, as time went on, you've shown surprising improvements."

A holographic screen of Combat Training enlarged, showing a video of Jaune's last fight with Cardin. The blond winced when he saw his image fly after a hard hit from the mace.

"Oddly enough, your first victory against Mister Winchester was the very thing that brought attention to your transcripts," Ozpin continued. "Everything in your file indicates that you were trained solely on a sword and shield. While it isn't strange that you may also learned some form of unarmed combat in case you lose your weapons—" he pointed towards the holographic screen, which now showed Jaune dropping his sword and roaring "—I doubt that this is part of that."

The screen continued to show Jaune's assault, his fists blurring as he continually hit Cardin.

"You show some familiarity, some experience in your unarmed style. A little reckless, but serviceable. So, I called the combat school that you had supposedly attended, to hopefully fill out the gaps in your file. That's when they mentioned that they never had a Jaune Arc as their student."

Jaune just sighed before nodding.

"While that should be the end of this, I cannot deny one thing," Ozpin said.

"What is that, sir?" Jaune asked softly.

"That you have the will of a Huntsman." Ozpin steepled his fingers. "As I mentioned, your grades have improved. Your performance as a team leader has grown by leaps and bounds as well. And as for your last bout…"

The video paused to the image of Jaune kicking Cardin out of the ring.

"It tells me you also have potential. For me, that is enough." Ozpin tapped on his scroll again, letting all the holographic screens fade. "Jaune Arc, I have a proposal."

The blond blinked before looking at Ozpin apprehensively. "Yes?" he asked, unsure.

"I will forget that you entered with forged transcripts," Ozpin replied. "I will allow you to stay in Beacon as long as you continually improve your skills and standing in this Academy."

Jaune stood up, eyes wide. "Really?"

Ozpin smiled, warmly for the first time since the conversation. "Yes. However, there is one problem. Atreus Arc."

The young man sank onto his seat once more. "Oh."

"I was contacted by your father just minutes ago," Ozpin said. "He advised me that he was going here soon to pick you up. It may be coincidence, but tell me, Mister Arc, has your father found out about your… stay here in Beacon?"

Jaune exhaled before nodding.

"I am to assume he has no part in creating your transcripts?"

"Of course not," Jaune replied quickly. "He would never—!"

Ozpin raised his hand, stopping the blond. "Then it's a simple matter. I will send him a message, along with all of your grades and other pertinent information. I will explain that I want your continuing attendance in this Academy. However, know that your position is tenuous at best. If he doesn't agree, then there is little I can do to keep you here. You have to convince your father that you want to stay."

Jaune just bowed his head. "I'm… I'm doomed."

"Faith, Mister Arc," Ozpin replied, making the blond look up. "You convinced me, haven't you?"

He frowned. He didn't want to say out loud that compared to his father, the Headmaster was far easier to sway. Still, at least he had a few days to plan.

* * *

No he didn't.

Jaune got a message the next morning, which caused the conversation he was having now.

"I'm sorry," he said, wincing slightly as Ruby looked at him with a frown as she chewed on her cookies.

"But you promised!" she replied.

"We'll work on it tomorrow. It's just… something came up."

"Something more important than homework due soon?" Ruby demanded, looking at Jaune doubtfully.

The blond could only nod. "It's… I have to meet my father today." How he got here days early, Jaune would never know. "I swear, I didn't plan it!"

Nora arm froze midway from eating her pancakes. "Your father is coming here? When? Can we meet him?"

Jaune winced. "I'm meeting him somewhere in the city," he replied. "And maybe next time, Nora. It's a family thing."

Yang's eyes narrowed teasingly. "Is someone in trouble?"

Oh, you have no idea, Jaune thought.

"Maybe your father wants to congratulate you," Pyrrha suggested.

"Oh yeah," Ruby agreed. "I mean, you finally won your first duel." Her hands made a series of chopping motion. "You went this! And that! It was so cool!"

"It was more like this and that," Yang countered, punching the air instead. "Speaking of yesterday, though… you still haven't told us what you did." She leaned forward, elbows in the table and palms on her cheeks. "So, Vomit Boy, did you finally awaken your Semblance?"

Jaune shook his head. "It's not."

Even with the forced calm he put on his tone, his hands absently shook as he took hold of the edges of the table. Unnoticed by him, Blake, for the first time in the conversation, lowered the book she was reading and raised an eyebrow at his actions.

"Oh?" Yang asked, a feral smile on her lips. "So you say. Come on, Jaune. I won't get mad. I mean, imitating me is very flattering. But you'd think you'd probably use glyphs instead, eh?"

Ruby, after swallowing another batch of cookies, looked at her sister oddly. "What do you mean? Like Weiss?"

"Speaking of her," Jaune interjected, "where is she?"

Ruby frowned. "She said she wanted to show Neptune around."

"Oh."

Yang gave me a small, surprisingly supportive smile. "Yeah. Sorry, Jaune. Seems like you really lost this one."

"Huh?" Ruby asked, looking between him and her sister.

Jaune just nodded, not sure how he felt. His mind was still on meeting his father later, which seemed to lessen the pang of hurt of knowing he wouldn't be seeing his Snow Angel before he left Beacon. Maybe forever.

"So, Jaune," Ren suddenly spoke up. "What's your family like?"

A small smile tugged on the side of Jaune's lips. Did Ren just try to bail him out? He owed him. "Big. Uncomfortably big really, but then again, having seven sisters will do that."

Yang choked on her drink and slammed her glass on the table. "S-seven?"

"Didn't help I was the youngest," Jaune added wistfully.

"Why would being the youngest not help?" Nora asked curiously.

The blond gave a sardonic smile while Yang blinked before laughing. "Overprotective?" she guessed.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Jaune replied with a sigh.

She whistled. "Still, eight children? Are your parents superhuman or something?"

"They are Hunters," he replied. "Well, Mum's retired. She took care of us mostly. Father… well, he was the active one."

Blake raised her eyebrow. "You're not close to him?" she asked.

Jaune shrugged. "He was pretty much absent when I was young. And when he was home, he… well, it's hard to explain."

"How so?" Ruby asked.

"Well, he was strict," Jaune replied. "But sometimes, you can see him holding back smiling or laughing. Even when he caught us doing things we weren't supposed to do. My sisters and I couldn't really get a beat on his mood most of the time, to be honest. It doesn't help he's really a hardcore traditionalist so it's difficult sometimes to relate with him."

"How hardcore?" Nora asked, eyebrows raised.

Jaune pondered for a moment before saying, "He treated my sisters like they were princesses most of the time. Spoiled them really. With me, he was tougher. Even when I got really sick a few years ago."

"You were sick?" Pyrrha asked with a frown, which Jaune nodded absently.

"It… was a long time ago." His face hardened. "I'm better." He took a breath before relaxing. "Anyway, it wasn't only on how he raised us, I guess. You would not believe what he uses as weapons."

"Oh?" Ruby asked before a thoughtful expression formed on her face. "You said that Crocea Mors was passed down to you from your great-grandfather, right? Was he the previous owner?"

Jaune shook his head. "No. Crocea Mors was passed from my mum's side. And if you think Crocea Mors is a classic, his are even more so. Not only do they seem older, but they are also something straight out of fairy tales."

Ren stared at Jaune. "What does he use?"

"An axe," Jaune explained. "Doesn't transform to anything."

"Okay?" Yang replied confusedly.

"The handle is made of wood."

"Wait, really?" Pyrrha asked, eyes widening. "That…"

" _Is_ beyond classic," Ruby finished, interest in her eyes. "What does it look like? Does it actually look like a weapon from fairy tales?"

Jaune laughed. "Actually, yeah. The cheek of the axe is even inscribed with weird symbols and has some gold highlights."

"Does it have any special properties?" Blake suddenly asked, curious. "Is it a magical axe?"

"Nah," he replied with a shake of his head. "It's just a normal axe."

Blake looked a bit disappointed.

"Okay, so that ain't too weird," Yang muttered. "Probably a family heirloom, right? I mean, you use one."

"Mine still has some transforming properties," Jaune countered. "Besides, the axe is just half of what he has. He also uses an honest-to-goodness bow and arrow. They are also made, mostly, of wood."

"Wow," Ruby declared. "That sounds like… a hunter."

"I thought I said he was one, Crater Face?" Jaune replied, amused.

The youngest girl of our group puffed up her cheeks. "Not the Huntsmen kind, Vomit Boy. I mean… the old hunters."

He blinked, looking at Pyrrha. She gave him a small smile. "She probably means the hunters of old stories, the legends of the days before the appearance of Grimm. Hunters at those times were renowned for being one with the wildlands. They would hunt animals, using whatever they killed for either food or as clothes."

"Yes," Blake added, nodding as she went over her scroll and began tapping. After a moment, she showed them all a drawing of a man wearing a fur vest, bow on his back, and a dagger in his hand. Jaune couldn't help but snort. Blake blinked before her eyes narrowed at him. "What?"

"Did I mention my father also wears furs and leathers for armor?" he replied.

"Okay, that _is_ hardcore," Yang replied. "Makes me want to meet him now."

Jaune just rolled his eyes and was about to reply when his scroll suddenly pinged. Grabbing it quickly, he just took note of the notifications, paling for a moment before sighing and stood up.

"Sorry guys," he said. "Gotta go."

Pyrrha looked at him, worried. "Jaune, are you sure we can't go with you?"

He just gave her a smile. "Don't worry, Pyrrha. I'll be back before you know it."

* * *

Lying to them had been surprisingly easy. Too easy, Jaune thought darkly.

He held his stomach as the Bullhead began to stir to the left. Even when he had his Aura unlocked, his motion sickness hadn't been fully disappeared. Again, like his situation with Cardin, it was still much better than before. He took a breath, his eyes glancing at the window. Beacon was moving further and further away, and the image of it hardened his resolve.

Team RWBY, his own team, Pyrrha training him, the small adventures he experienced… hell, even Cardin and his team—the Academy had been a great experience for Jaune. There was no way he would give that up easily.

Before he knew it, he could feel the Bullhead slowly descend. He clenched his sides even harder, waiting for that inevitable moment of landing. The whole vehicle lurched as it touched the ground hard, almost making him lose the contents of his stomach.

He let the other passengers get off, using the time to let his insides settle before he too made his way to the exit. He blinked, raising his hand to lessen the glare before he made his way to the city proper of Vale.

Jaune couldn't help but smile as he watched people move to on to their business. The city was bustling with activity, noise, and scents. Nearby, he could smell the delicious sweetness of bread and pastry mixed in with the strong aroma of coffee. It seems everyone was really gearing up for the Vytal Festival.

Opening his scroll, he read the message he had received this morning once more.

"Be armed and prepared," Jaune whispered. There was more, like the location of the cafe they were supposed to meet, but it was those four words that really struck Jaune to his core.

He folded it back away, ensured the straps on his armor was secured and felt the hilt of Crocea Mors before making his way deeper into the heart of the city.

As he scanned the buildings that began to cluster together the farther he walked. He bumped a few more people, but they left him alone as he continued on his way, feet shuffling beneath him until he finally reached the meeting place.

"Good afternoon!" a faunus waitress with small, round mouse ears popping out from her bright red hair greeted him enthusiastically as he stepped inside the cafe. "Table for?" she continued.

"I'm actually meeting someone," he replied with a small smile.

"Do you need my help to find them?"

"No, it's okay," he said with a nod. "Thank you."

She bowed. "Welcome, sir. Enjoy your stay!"

I'll try, Jaune thought with a sinking feeling to his stomach. Ignoring that, he moved gently across the tables, eyes scanning for his father. It didn't even take Jaune more than a minute to find him.

Atreus Arc wasn't someone that was hard to spot, to be honest. Even on his seat, the man was tall enough to be almost a head higher than the rest of the sitting crowd. Not to mention the way he dressed also made him stand out.

As he had mentioned to his friends, his father wore something akin to the hunters of old. A fur vest, strapped securely with two belts making an X over his chest. His left arm was almost fully covered, with a leather gauntlet on his left forearm and a long, oddly shaped metal plate on top of it. His right forearm was bare, though, exposing his tattoos with that had odd lettering and lines.

Even until now, Jaune had no idea what they said or meant.

Atreus was a perfect picture of calmness, his eyes down reading something from his scroll. In front of him, a table was set, with a cup of steaming coffee making itself available on his discretion. Approaching him, Jaune steeled his will, hoping to at least put up a strong front.

It crumbled immediately when Atreus, without even looking up, said, "Sit down, boy."

Jaune swallowed. Taking a seat in front of Atreus, he opened his mouth, hoping to at least greet him, only for the older man to grunt, his blue eyes glaring at Jaune's. "Do not speak a word," he declared before looking back down.

Sighing, Jaune just studied his father a bit more, hoping to get an insight on how to proceed.

It was funny how intimidating Atreus could be considering how boyish he looked. Already reaching something over forty, yet if anyone on the scene were to look, they would think he and Jaune were peers. Not even the slight scarring on Atreus' left cheek and chin detracted from his looks.

In fact, a lot had already mentioned he got his father's face and eyes. The only thing he got from his mum was her bright blonde hair, not the light-brown ones from his father.

While waiting for him to finish reading, Jaune glanced towards the man's left. There, leaning on the armrest of the couch, was the axe he had described to Ruby earlier. Oddly enough, his father's bow and quiver had been missing.

"Jaune," Atreus finally spoke, looking up. "Seems you've been busy."

He didn't know how to respond. An apology? He didn't want to give the impression that he was regretting his actions, especially if he really wanted to convince his father on staying in Beacon.

Atreus raised his unfolded scroll, unbothered by Jaune's silence. "Ozpin sent me everything you had done since you've started, as well as his proposal for your continuing attendance," he continued, showing him the file the Headmaster had sent. "It's interesting."

He perked up. "Does that mean—?"

"Before we continue that conversation, let's discuss a few things." He paused before shaking his head. "You weren't lying about being a team leader."

"I wouldn't lie about that," Jaune replied tersely.

"And why should I have believed that, boy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You've been deceiving your family, your teammates, and your friends for months. By your mother's family standards, you could be considered an Oathbreaker."

Jaune winced before shaking his head. "I had no choice," he said. "I wanted to be a Huntsman. I want to be someone that can help people."

"What you want and your situation clash, boy," Atreus replied with a scowl before his face softened. "It's not that I don't understand. You're my son, after all. However, I had hoped you were smart enough to realize the idiocy of your actions."

Jaune growled. "I got this far, haven't I?"

"Through sheer dumb luck," was the calm reply.

"So what?!" Jaune countered, gritting his teeth. "So what if I got lucky? I'm doing well!"

"Doing well?" Atreus asked with a raised eyebrow. "You've lost every combat duel since you've started. The fact that you faced almost the same person every time lends nothing to the credibility of that claim."

"I won against him yesterday!"

"One victory amidst countless defeats," Atreus replied, shaking his head. "Granted, it's still victory. However, it doesn't change facts. You were never the same after you got sick. Your mother and I thought you had given up, and we didn't blame you."

"I…" Jaune frowned. "I may have given up that time. But when I stopped being sick, I wanted to continue." He then glared. "And none of you helped me."

He braved Jaune's expression without batting an eye. "Would you blame us? For years, you couldn't even move out of your room without coughing blood."

Jaune flushed red but didn't reply.

"There's no shame in not being a warrior," Atreus continued. "And even if you're right, that the sickness has left, you are woefully unprepared for Beacon." He waved his scroll again. "In no good conscience can I accept Ozpin's proposal."

Jaune frowned. "So… you won't agree to it?"

"He may have faith in your potential, and he's right to. However, your current abilities will make you a liability. I may have agreed with it if not for the fact that you are a team leader. It's one thing to be relying on a group. It's another to be leading them." Before Jaune could speak, Atreus raised his free hand. "And before you say it, I did ask Ozpin if he could have your mantle transferred to someone else, but the cursed fool is set on having you continue with your unearned responsibilities."

"I haven't steered my team wrong," he protested.

"Yet," his father countered. "Not while you are still in the safety of the Academy, and that will change, Jaune. Faster than you think." There was a pause. "However…"

Jaune's eyes widened. "However…?"

"I will not deny that you have conviction. If anything, you convinced me that you have the will to continue your dream. So, I have another proposal."

Jaune blinked. "Which is?"

"Let me train you. In a year, I'll bring you back to form. Even better than before. That is my promise."

Jaune just stared at him for a moment, eyes wide. "You… you what? Really?"

"I always wished for the best for my children," he replied with a humorless grin. "If my reckless boy wants to pursue his dangerous dreams, it would be remiss of me to let him go unprepared."

"So you won't stop me from continuing Beacon?" Jaune asked, his smile growing.

"I will not impede your admission next year," Atreus replied.

Jaune's smile formed completely before the wording got to him. "Wait, you mean—?"

Atreus nodded. "That means you have to drop out from your current term. And you will get admitted next year, properly this time."

Jaune sank further on his seat. "But… that means…" His eyes hardened before he shook his head. "No."

Arteus raised an eyebrow. "Jaune. Do not be stupid about this."

"I'm sorry, father, but I can't… abandon them." He looked at his father solidly in the eyes. "I want to keep my team. My friends. I'm not the same anymore. I can handle it. I've improved so much!"

Atreus nodded. "Fine. Show me."

Jaune blinked. "How?"

"You have your armor on and your sword with you, don't you?"

The young man blinked before feeling the hilt of Crocea Mors. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "I do."

"Follow me, then," Atreus declared as he dropped a few plastic pieces of lien to pay for his untouched coffee. Then, he paused, looking towards the large window that showed the outside of the cafe, frowning. Grabbing his axe, he flipped it gracefully and attached it to the hook Jaune knew was present at the back of his father's vest and began to walk towards the exit. Jaune followed soon afterwards, and both Arcs were offered pleasant goodbyes by the same faunus waitress that Jaune had met earlier.

After following his father for a few blocks, Jaune realized that they were actually circling around. "Father?"

"Just losing our scent," Atreus asked. "Come."

Shrugging, Jaune followed and both disappeared in the crowd.

Soon afterwards, a young woman, dressed in an unflattering long brown coat and a hood covering her head jogged slowly to the scene, looking around in confusion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Something wrong?" Atreus asked as he turned to Jaune. The younger man blinked as he looked his forest surrounding.

"Uh, weren't we—?"

"In the City of Vale?" his father replied with an amused grin. "Yes we were. Not anymore."

"But we just turned left—" Jaune looked at his father. "Was that your Semblance?"

Atreus just raised an eyebrow.

"Nevermind." Though Jaune silently admitted that a teleportation Semblance was pretty cool. At least it explained how Atreus got to Vale so fast. Taking one more look around before looking back at his father, he asked, "So… how do we do this? Look for some Grimm?"

Atreus snorted. "What good would that do? If you want to understand, to truly know someone, then there's only one course of action." He gave Jaune a flat stare. "You know this as well as I do."

Jaune nodded, looking at his father before bowing his head, his hands shaking beside him. "Yeah…" he replied as he unsheathed Crocea Mors and expanding his heater shield. "I know."

The older man nodded as he unhooked his axe with his right arm and readied himself as well. "Come, Jaune. Show me what you've learned. How much you've grown."

Jaune's mind went to Pyrrha, the lessons she always gave him those nights that she would train him. He also couldn't help but remember her warm smiles and her eager encouragement. His partner…

"She deserves better than me," Jaune whispered as he went to the form she taught him.

"What was that?" Atreus asked.

Jaune shook his head. "Nothing."

The older man frowned. "At least you finally know how to hold that thing right."

He had no words. They weren't needed. His reply was a swift dash towards his father.

Unlike his last fight with Cardin, Jaune brought his shield up. It cost him speed, but it easily caught his father's strike as he came in range. Countering with a diagonal slash, he thought he caught his old man flat-footed. However, by just simply raising his left arm, Crocea Mors was deflected by the metal plate in Atreus' left forearm.

Tightening his formation, Jaune shifted his feet, using his shield to catch the counterblow of the axe. After that, he mind stopped speaking to him in his own voice. Instead, he heard Pyrrha's.

Keep out of your opponent's weapon range. Use your shield and feet to get into yours. Watch your opponent's shoulders and chest to guess their angle of attack. Strike after your opponent's attack.

Silver and gold flashed throughout the air, the sunlight reflecting from both their weapons. Sparks flew as metal made contact with metal, their shrill, sharp sound masking the grunts Jaune made as he kept on the offensive.

He moved to keep up to Pyrrha's gospel, even when his father moved fast enough to avoid his counter-strikes, going for the most advantageous positions as well as attacking from odd angles. Still, the blond swordsman could hardly believe he was keeping up. A warm feeling began to spread over him as he began to pick up the pace.

Slash, dodge, stab, overhead. He was doing everything he was taught. He would show his father that he was—

"Slow."

That was all Jaune heard before before something hard slammed on his chest. He flew, the image of Atreus with his foot extended got farther and farther away until he saw the sky and felt the impact of the ground on his back. Rolling through the force, he smelled wet grass and soil before the world finally stopped spinning.

Jaune shook his head before rolling to his side, Pyrrha continuing whispering into his ear. Keep moving. Do not stay downed. Your opponent will take advantage of that.

The words proved right as he barely dodged Atreus' follow-up attack. The man had taken the offense this time, dashing up to him in a blink of an eye before jumping up in the air, axe above his head. The impact made a small crater on the ground, and Jaune was close enough to feel its effects.

Scrambling to his feet, he raised his shield, eyes at his father, trying to figure out when the next strike came. Atreus just shook his head, frown on his face.

"You finally learned some sword techniques, boy," he said. "However, you are far too slow, too weak. I knew your conditioning had gotten worse since five years ago, but I would have thought you would at least reclaimed your former level by now."

Jaune gritted his teeth but said nothing as he readied himself when his father dashed at him this time. Block, stab, overhead—

"Predictable," Atreus declared as, somehow, he twirled his axe like it weighed nothing, deflecting Crocea Mors before his fist flew out and hit the blond squarely in the jaw.

Head snapping sideways, Jaune almost lost his footing, eyes wide when he noted the axe coming down at him. In a desperate motions, he swung his word upwards to meet it, the loud clanging sound and pain lancing up his arm the result of his defense. However, it gave him enough breathing space to maneuver. Twisting his hips, Jaune's foot kicked out fast, which Atreus still blocked easily by simply raising his left arm.

Adding more force through his kick, Jaune used the arm as a platform to push himself further away, giving him the space needed to correct his form as Atreus charged at him once more.

"Is this the only thing you learned?" Atreus asked as he raised his axe and brought it down on the shield hard enough that the sheet of metal vibrated hard and pushed Jaune back even further. "Basics of swordsmanship while attending Beacon Academy?"

Jaune kept moving as his father's offense turned far more intense than earlier that he couldn't find a window to counterattack.

"And someone at your level can proudly call himself a team leader?" Atreus asked, shaking his head. "Tell me, boy, are those that follow you pathetic or stupid?"

Eyes narrowed to a sharpened glance and yellow color began tinting Jaune's world. His sword flew faster, harder than he thought possible, which Atreus barely blocked. His father looked at him with a raised eyebrow, which Jaune responded with a sharp shake of his head and a glare.

"Do not talk about my team like that!" he growled, his hand whipping faster and faster. "They aren't pathetic! They aren't stupid!"

Atreus' own forearm moved just as quick to block each strike with ease. "How can you even say that, boy?" he asked incredulously. "They have spent months with you. Surely they must have noticed your lack of skills? How you couldn't even win any combat class duel? Either they are weaker than you, or were idiotic enough to not even notice."

"You do not know what you are talking about!" Jaune screamed, each word punctuated by hard sword strikes that came out faster and faster with every hit. One even caught the underside of the axehead. With all the force he could muster, he raised the axe high up out of position, and faster than anyone could blink, he shifted his stance. Forcing his body down to a duck and spinning at the same time. Crocea Mors bit the ground, leaving a deep scar on the soil before he lifted it, aiming at his father's face.

Atreus left arm moved to intercept the attack, but Jaune knew that it was too late. So when the metal plate in the older man's arm suddenly expanded to a circular shield, his eyes widened before an explosion of force sprung forth on impact. Even with all his strength, Jaune couldn't stop as his sword was deflected upwards, leaving him open as the newly-expanded shield came down the ground with such a force that the grass and soil flew upwards.

Jaune's world turned to a mixture of green, blues, and browns before he landed hard. Going on all fours, Jaune stabbed the ground, growling as he glared at Atreus, who was looking at him with, if possible, even deeper disappointment.

"I know more than you think, boy," he said. "How you lucked out, partnering with Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl." Atreus rolled his eyes. "I also know of your two other teammates. While they haven't made a name for themselves yet, they are all worthy Huntsmen in training. And they are following someone like you. A cheat, a fraud, and worse, someone who will most likely lead them to their deaths."

Something cold entered Jaune as he glared at his father. Standing up, his chest began to rise and fall fast, arms shaking. "I will never do that to them!" he growled.

"And what will guarantee that, boy?" Atreus asked. "The safety net that is Beacon Academy will not be there forever."

"So you keep saying!"

"Yet you are not listening," the older man said before stared at his son. "Is this how you are going to convince me that you should stay in Beacon, boy? To hide behind Ozpin's proposal, by showing me you only learned basic sword skills, and giving me useless platitudes like staying with your friends?" He shook his head. "As you are now, you are worthless to them. Is it any surprise that the Schnee girl rejected you?"

Jaune took a step back, his eyes wide.

"And she was right to," Atreus continued. "Why would she be interested in you? What can you give her?" He raised an eyebrow. "From what I heard, she's dating a foreigner, someone who will leave after the Vytal Festival. That she would willingly choose someone she will have to say goodbye to soon explains about almost everything. You are truly nothing to her."

Jaune roared, his weapons discarded. Raising his arms to his side, fists forming, he charged at his father, finally got his first clean hit as his punch landed on Atreus's face. However, that didn't even seem phase the older man as he never moved from place. When Jaune's fists began flying to the midsection, Atreus blocked them with his expanded shield.

The axe came to action again, but Jaune paid no heed even when they made solid contact with him. The blows were so light, so ignorable, that he continued on his offense.

Little by little, the defense was overwhelmed. Hard, bony fists came faster and faster that after a while, the older man moved from blocking to dodging. Yet, even with the shift in rhythm, Atreus never panicked. In fact, he was not even bothered enough to stop talking.

"Are you angry at me, boy?" he asked, dodging to the left.

"Shut up!" Jaune growled as his foot lashed out.

"Why?" he asked as he deflected the attack with his shield before ramming him with his shoulders hard enough to separate them. "It is your own incompetence that put you into this position after all. If you had listened—"

"Listened?!" Jaune demanded. "You call me worthless?! So was your advice! Weren't you the one that told me that confidence was all that I needed when it came to women?" He punched the ground with both arms, deep enough that his limbs had sunk to just below his elbows. "You—" he lifted them back up, he drew out a generous-sized boulder, his fingers sunk deep into the hard surface "—were wrong!"

With that final shout, he lifted the large rock with contemptuous ease before throwing it at his father. The response was a simple raising of the shield, blocking the boulder head on. Jaune's projectile broke to pieces, scattering sharp rocks everywhere.

"I was confident! I was brave! I asked her out everyday! I made a fool of myself to get her attention! How was that not enough?!"

Atreus just stood there, unharmed. "Bravery and false bravado is not confidence, boy." Then, his expression turned more solemn. "Yet, your question is very telling."

Jaune raised his fists.

"Who are you truly angry with?" Atreus asked. "Me, for telling the truth? Yourself, for not succeeding? Or maybe it's that Schnee girl, that deemed all your work, all your effort, worthless?"

Jaune roared once more, and a crack of thunder echoed in the air as he disappeared from his position, reappearing in front of his father.

"That's the Jaune I remember," Atreus said softly. "However…"

His tone shifted, and so did the flow of the whole fight. Jaune noted his father's exposed forearm glow, the strange letters lighting up in a yellow-blue color before his shield suddenly moved with sudden quickness that caught Jaune's fist at an awkward angle, deflecting it hard enough to put the younger man off-balance. That's when he was struck.

The edge of the shield punched through his gut, hard enough that Jaune actually felt it. He slid backwards, his feet building up a collection of grass and dirt as he moved.

"You've lost your focus," Atreus said, eyes narrowing as the young man dashed up to him once more. "Your anger is returning your former strength and speed. Yet you're not controlling it. And when you lose yourself—"

Atreus slipped through Jaune's punch, axe twirling in his hand as he suddenly hopped into the air. The blond turned, eyes wide when he saw his father's weapon glow with eerie blue light. The eye of the axe slammed down, cold air stealing Jaune's strength as he was blown back, his eyes widening as he witnessed the damage of the attack.

The ground surrounding the his father was encased in ice.

"—you cannot hope to achieve victory."

Jaune grunted, raising his arms. He blinked when he noted that his limbs were covered in a thin layer of frost. Shaking them off, he charged once more, carefully this time, realizing that the beautiful but mundane weapon of his father was anything but.

He didn't get far when Atreus readied the axe, the weapon glowing once more before he swung it horizontally in the empty space. Jaune's eyes widened when another wave of freezing air reached him, even so far away.

"Do not become reckless now, boy," Atreus said. "You've already shown me your heart. Now, show me your mind."

Jaune blinked, rage leaving him for a moment. His father simply pointed at the ground beside him with the axe. He glanced at the direction, mouth opening when he saw his discarded sword and shield.

"Even with just basic techniques, you can remove the disadvantage of your lack of skills with focus. Channel that anger you have shown me. Control it. Prove me wrong."

Strapping the shield on his arm, wielding the sword with the other, Jaune nodded. He thought of his father's harsh words. He thought of his failures in life. Finally, he thought of Weiss, of the hurt she had caused him. He knew his father was right. However, he still wanted to attend Beacon. He still wanted to be with his friends. What good would it do to be a Huntsman without them on his side?

Jaune roared once more as he charged, his whole body glowing in bright golden light.

Atreus raised his eyebrow before lowering his stance. His axe glowed once more and before Jaune could reach him, he slashed upwards. A vertical blue wave of cold energy shot out forward, only to be intercepted by the blond's shield, the impact blowing loose soil and leaves away.

Jaune growled, muscles screaming as he was pushed back, but little by little, his feet stomped forward and before he knew it, the pressure was gone. With nothing standing in his way, he moved in range and attacked.

Atreus dodged, eyes widening slightly as he noticed the slowness or clumsiness of the strikes were no longer present. Sharpness and efficiency in the younger man's movement was becoming more evident as seconds passed. The blows came out strong, and the footwork improved, keeping the boy balanced and lending him strength. They now moved with each attack, digging in closer to penetrate his defenses.

Then, to the older man's surprise, his son's moves were tinged with a sort of familiarity to them. The techniques he began to employ far more advanced than he had expected, like when Jaune used the shield and sword as a pincer to try and trap the axe and used his shoulder as a battering ram. However, it was only when his son ducked low, avoiding his horizontal swipe that Atreus knew something had definitely changed.

The younger man did not counter with the obvious upward slash. Instead, the he stayed low, angling his shield up to cover, not only his entire body, but also the low swipe, targeting Atreus' right knee.

"Did your mother teach you that?" the older man asked curiously impressed as he jumped away.

Jaune didn't reply. His mind was solely focused on Pyrrha's instructions that had returned to full force returned, telling him to check on his father's stance, the angle of the axe, and the positioning of the round shield. Oddly, he also heard another voice, an older man, giving him instructions on where to move his shield and how to angle his sword strikes. Together, those two voices melded into a beat of rhythmic snares and bass that the he could surprisingly understand. His body moved with it, like a dance that only he could perform.

Crocea Mors spun in the air, seeking weaknesses in his father's defense, while his shield and foot positioning gave him a stalwart defense. Blows were exchanged, sparks flew, and the ground was disturbed once more as their weapons impacted each other's shields.

To anyone watching, it was an even match.

Yet Jaune knew differently. The music that played in his head had reached its plateau and he could physically feel why. Sweat formed on his forehead, his breathing getting more ragged, and his grip on Crocea Mors was slipping. Whilst he could feel his rage pushing him forward, he also felt a building numbness that was starting to climb from his legs and back.

The two voice singing in his head somehow knew his predicament. The feel of their verses became more desperate as the song began its final crescendo. Jaune started doing feints and his legs, heavy as they were now, moved in desperation. He just needed his father to make one mistake.

Just one.

He did. His father fell for Jaune's fourth feint, allowing him to catch the axe at an odd angle. Using his shield, he slammed into Atreus while lifting his sword at the same time, prying his weapon away from him. With the numbness spreading over his chest, he made one final swing, only for it to impact his father's shield.

Jaune blinked before he fell to his buttocks, Crocea Mors slipping from his fingers. His body leaned backwards and his eyes began to narrow, his perception darkening. Before he could fully fall, though, he felt a warm hand over his shoulders, and in the tunnel of his vision, there laid the image of his father.

"Well done, son," Atreus declared with the warmest smile Jaune had seen in awhile. "Well done."

After that, he felt no more.

* * *

The sky was settling into an orange color when Jaune finally woke up. He tried to move, only to gasp and wince as he felt his muscles on fire.

"Take it easy."

Jaune blinked, turning to the direction of the voice. There, sitting down and facing him was his father. He looked at him for a moment before relaxing, feeling comfort at the wooden trunk he was leaning on.

"Why do I feel so… tired?" Jaune whispered.

"Aura exhaustion," Atreus replied. "Our fight pushed you to the edge. Your Semblance awakening didn't help either."

Jaune's eyes widened. "W-what? I… Semblance? I discovered my Semblance?"

"Yes," Atreus replied before grabbing the sheathed Crocea Mors from the ground and examined it. "Tell me, has your mom taught you any sword and shield techniques?"

Jaune shook his head.

"Maybe your partner who is training you?"

"How did you—" he paused before shaking his head. "No. Pyrrha only taught me form, angle of strikes, footwork, and reading an opponent. She said advanced techniques were worthless without proper foundation."

Atreus nodded. "Smart girl."

"You asked that earlier," Jaune said softly, shaking his head. "About mom teaching me. Why?"

"Considering some of the moves you used were advanced Arc techniques?" Atreus replied. "How did you know how to pull those off, Jaune?"

"I…" he closed his eyes. "I heard a song. It… told me what to do?"

Atreus looked at him for a moment before grabbing his axe. Holding it out to his son, he asked, "Tell me, what do you think of Leviathan?"

Jaune blinked at the name, wondering who that was as he grabbed the axe. When his fingers enclosed around the wooden handle, his eyes widened as he suddenly heard a powerful song in his head. There was deep thrum of bass surrounded by a complex layer of strings and percussions, building up by putting layers and layers on the music. Voices, a man and a woman, came soon afterwards. The song they sang was gruff, violent, animalistic, yet also had an undertone of worry, passion, and regret.

The axe was named Leviathan. A weapon that killed countless of powerful beings, whose names have been lost to unforgiving throes of history. It was a weapon baptized in blood, yet the core of the weapon was of love.

"What is this axe?" Jaune asked, his hands shaking. "The song, it's… indescribable."

"Can you do anything with it?"

"How can I—" Jaune paused as the voices of the song sang with clarity and before he knew it, he willed _something_. The symbols on the cheek and wooden began to glow before the whole head became covered in ice. He could only stare at the axe stupidly. "That… is not ice dust."

"No," Atreus replied before taking hold of the axe, and Jaune let it go easily. "Your Semblance… it may be some sort of weapon resonance. It could explain those techniques you pulled off earlier. If so, you have a useful Semblance, son."

Jaune stared down on his hands. "I… did it?" He closed his eyes, tears flowing down freely. "Does that mean… I can stay?"

"I have still not decided on that yet."

Jaune wiped his eyes with his hand before staring at his patriarch. "What am I still lacking, father? If it's my current condition, I can improve it. I… I didn't get sick. Not even when I was—"

"Really angry?" Atreus asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your burst of rage, that's the one that made you sick five years ago, wasn't it?"

Jaune nodded hesitantly. "I don't know why, but… I'm fine now. It even helped me in our fight."

"You do take more from my side of the family," his father said.

He blinked. "What?"

Atreus paused for a moment, frown on his face. Before Jaune could ask what was wrong, the older man grunted. "You have been told that the Arcs have a name that spans back in time, were you not?"

He nodded. "We are from a line of great warriors."

"That's only half the story," Atreus replied. "Your mother's family does indeed a grand lineage behind it. However, the history of my family is… shall we say, more esoteric. This rage of yours? You've inherited it from my father."

"What is it?" Jaune asked. "And why did it make me sick?"

Atreus frowned, eyes closed, pausing for almost a minute before he spoke. "It's a blessing. Or a curse, depending on your view. A gift from the gods, some would say. As for why it made you sick… well, power always comes at a cost. Maybe you weren't ready to use it."

"Is that why I can use it now?" Jaune asked. "Because I'm ready?"

"Possibly," Atreus replied. "You are older, and you have your Aura unlocked. There are so many factors that would affect it. However, the important part is you have it. Which brings me to this." He stared at his son's eyes deeply. "That Rage is now your weapon. Do you remember the lesson I taught you about the power of any weapon?"

Jaune frowned before nodding. "It comes from here," he responded, pointing at his own heart. "But only tempered with this," he finished by pointing at his head.

"By the discipline, the self-control of whoever wields it," Atreus said with a nod. "That Rage is dangerous. Even if it won't harm you anymore, it doesn't include those around you. So, son, forgive that Schnee girl."

Jaune blinked, looking a little confused. "Forgive her?"

"She hurt you deeply," Atreus creplied. "That much is obvious. While you are not right to demand an apology from her, it is still in your purview to forgive her."

"I…" Jaune paused before shaking his head.

Atreus nodded. "If you can't, then you should put her out of your mind. Do not let your anger with her fester within you. That is a poison that will hurt you for a lifetime." With that, he stood up and hooked the Leviathan behind him. With gentle care, he offered the sheathed Crocea Mors to his son, who accepted it easily.

Jaune closed his eyes as its song began to reverberate in his head. He sighed, allowing it to wash over him before he opened his eyes and blinked when his father began walking away from him. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home," his father replied. "I will tell your mother and your sister that you have caught the attention of Ozpin, and you have been admitted to Beacon."

The younger man blanched. "Uh, is there any way you can keep that to yourself, father?"

"A man must take responsibility," Atretus replied, turning to him with a grin. "I suggest you take time to think for suitable excuses when they call for you. They may not be as forgiving as I am." He turned around, took a step, before looking back. "And son… I'm very proud of you."

Jaune visibly brightened on that, but that expression disappeared when his father began walking away. "Hey, wait!" he called, hand extended out to try and reach the man. "Are you going to just leave me here?"

"I'd rather not disturb your reunion!"

"Reunion?" Jaune asked as he stared at the figure of his father fading from his view. He looked at Crocea Mors, the song softly playing in his head, before he shook his head. "I like my Semblance, I guess… but couldn't I also get teleportation?" he asked himself.

"Jaune!"

The young swordsman blinked once more as he saw a figure running towards him. It took a moment to realize who it was because the figure was dressed in a coat and hood that hid their features. He noted that they had a unfolded scroll in their hand, but still gave him no clue of who it was making a mad dash at him.

However, the closer they came, the more he saw her features. "Pyrrha?" he asked, confused.

"Jaune!" she repeated as she stopped near him. Her eyes widened as she saw the state of him, then turned to look around her. "What happened?!"

Jaune scratched the back of his head as he also looked around. The place was a mess. There were patches of ice on the ground, disturbed earth, and even a large hole that he made when he dug out that boulder he threw at his father. He still couldn't believe he had done that. "Uh… family bonding?" he replied with an innocent smile.

Her eyes narrowed before she shook her head. Kneeling beside him, she studied him one more time going back to her scroll. "I'm calling Beacon. We'll get you help, I promise!"

Jaune watched her with a small smile on his face. "How'd you find me?" he asked.

Her eyes averted from him. "I, ah, received an alert that your Aura was low."

Jaune nodded. She had probably used the Team App function on their scrolls to lock on his location. Watching the his partner fidget with worry and began barking information at her scroll, he couldn't help but remember everything that she had done for him.

"You're the best, Pyrrha. You know that?"

Her face flushed red, but her smile was the brightest thing in the forest. "Um, thank you, Jaune."

The young man nodded, though he tilted his head afterwards. "What are you wearing, though?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Jaune has changed. That was the forefront thought in Pyrrha's mind.

In the center of the training room, she and her two other teammates watched as their team leader mow down the practise droids with contemptible ease. The fact that he was not even using Crocea Mors to do the deed only amplified the strangeness of it all.

"Woohoo! Go, Fearless Leader!" Nora shouted from her left as she jumped up and down, fists pumping in the air.

Jaune paid her no heed, roaring as his fist smashed on another droid, making it fly, only to face another who was already launching its attack. A metallic fist impacted the young man's face, making Pyrrha wince, and the rest of the droids followed up on that. Swords came slashing, guns were shot, but if anything, their attacks only made him more incensed.

"Strange," Ren whispered from her right. She looked at him and saw him looking down at his scroll.

"What is?" Pyrrha asked.

"His Aura hasn't gone down," Ren explained. "Yang's Aura, even with her Semblance, takes dive with every hit. This… Rage, as Jaune calls it, seems to provide an additional protection over his Aura."

"Well, we can't expect his Semblance to be the same as Yang's, right?" Nora asked.

"That's the thing," Ren muttered, shaking his head. "I think Jaune was telling the truth. This isn't his Semblance. Or even Aura related at all."

Pyrrha frowned as she looked at her team leader once more.

Metal parts flew as robotic limbs as Jaune mowed through the thinning crowd, ending with one final droid downed on the ground. Before it could stand up, though, the blond mounted the machine and began pounding on it non-stop until Ren shouted, "Jaune, I thinks it's dead already!"

The blond blinked, eyes going to his teammates. Pyrrha noted that the sharpness of her leader's eyes lessened as he looked down on the broken, unmoving droid, breathing heavily before giving them a slow nod.

"Better," Red declared.

"Really?" Jaune asked as he walked towards them. "I still got hit."

"You beat off all the droids much faster this time," Ren countered. "However, it made me realize something."

"That is?"

"I think it's time to ask Yang to help you instead. My unarmed style doesn't suit you."

"What do you mean?" the blond asked as he finally reached them. Pyrrha handed him a bottle of water, which he drank from immediately. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," she replied with a smile.

"You are far more direct in combat than I am," Ren continued. "I redirect attacks, dodge, but you tend to just blow through it, more comfortable in blocking or taking hits."

"Blocking?" Nora asked, confused. "What blocking?"

Jaune winced. "Maybe I should work on that."

"That is always a smart decision," Pyrrha offered.

His only reply was a smile.

Ren nodded. "Anyway, our styles are too different for me to teach."

"So… it's better if I ask Yang help on this?"

Ren nodded. "That is my recommendation."

Jaune frowned before nodding back. "I'll think about it."

Team JNPR made their way towards one of the benches in the room and after sitting down, Pyrrha began to distribute sandwiches that was still wrapped in plastic. Unwrapping his, Jaune took a few tentative bites, watching as the rest of his team ate theirs.

There was a moment of peace, the only sound being made was Nora who took to chewing hers quite enthusiastically as she mumbled a bunch of things before declaring she wanted pancakes.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha called.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, glancing at her as he chewed.

She took a breath. "You've… never really talked about this… Rage of yours. I guess I'm just a little confused. Why haven't you used it before?"

"Ooh!" Nora exclaimed. "I wanna know too!"

Jaune looked at both of them before glancing at Ren. The only other male member of their team shrugged, making the blond leader frown.

"You don't have to talk about it," Pyrrha declared hurriedly.

"No, it's okay, I guess," Jaune said. He looked back in front of him, at the arena where the scene of destruction was still evident. "Remember when I said I got sick before?"

All three nodded.

"That's because I… awakened?" Jaune frowned. "I guess that's a good word for it. That's because I awakened the Rage. It's silly, now that I think about it."

"What was?" she asked.

"How it started." Jaune took a sip of water before sighing. "My oldest sister was going to be a full-fledged Huntress at that time. Early, in fact. And my third oldest sister was also about to enter the Academy in Atlas for her first term. I… well, you could say I really looked up to them. I wanted to be like them and my parents. I wanted to be a Huntsman, to help people. So I went to my local combat school, and pretty much demanded them I enter a year early.

"Imagine a twelve year old me telling everyone that I was the best thing since Dust discovery. I attracted attention from a particularly hot-headed first year. Insults were thrown. Then fists shot out as well. I knocked him down pretty easily."

Jaune then suddenly laughed. "It may sound unbelievable, but I was faster and stronger compared to those of my age. And it probably helped that the older kid hadn't unlocked his Aura yet anyway. So, there he was, laying on the ground, crying, and I just… rubbed salt on the wound. Told him he was too weak to be a Huntsman and he should quit."

"Wow," Nora said, looking at Jaune with big eyes. "You were Cardin when you were young?"

"Nora!" Pyrrha exclaimed.

"What?" the bubbly-girl asked, confused. "Sounds like Cardin!"

"Jaune said he didn't start the fight," Ren defended. "That already makes him different. Though I guess the arrogance isn't far off."

Jaune rolled his eyes. "Yeah, thanks, Ren." He sighed. "Anyway, the headmaster came out, complimented me a bit but told me they didn't accept early applicants. Nice guy, too, now that I think about it. He offered me to call my parents to pick me up. I just walked away, angry.

"So there I was, wandering around the town with a chip on my shoulder, when I was confronted by that boy again. This time, he brought help. An older brother, cousin, I'm not sure. And he didn't take me hurting the younger kid too well."

"You beat him up too?" Nora asked.

"Nope. Judging the way he tanked my hits, the older boy probably had his Aura unlocked." He shook his head. "Anyway, it was my turn to get the snot beaten out of me. And like I did earlier, the older kid began to insult me as well. I was already feeling angry, but when he mentioned how weak my family was since he did it so easily, even talking trash about my sisters, well… I lost it.

"My vision turned kinda orange-yellow. I felt the churling of my guts as well. I stood up, dashed at the older kid, and punched him as hard as I could. Broke his nose. Blood came out. It was… something new to me. The younger kid, when we fought, it was pretty much just bruises. Blood was… well, let's just say I wanted more. The two kids ran, scared. Most probably because I managed to punch through his Aura, maybe? I wanted to chase them, you know. But… that's when it hit me."

"What did?" Pyrrha asked.

"The sickness. My muscles suddenly felt weak. My bones felt cold. And I started coughing so violently that blood came out. I could barely stand, and I just tried to go home. I collapsed at some point, and when I woke up, I was back at home, at bed, surrounded by my worried family."

Jaune stood up and started pacing in front of his team. The rest of them looked at each other.

"You know, that day was supposed to be a party for my older sister that just graduated to being a Huntress. I completely ruined it with my selfishness. Instead of everyone being happy, everyone hovered over me like I was about keel over and die. My other sisters and mother were affected too as the sickness just got stuck with me. After a month of coughing blood and my body seizing up at times, I promised myself… never again."

Ren nodded in understanding. "That's what you meant a week ago, at the bathroom."

Jaune nodded. "I got better, thankfully. Just a few months before Beacon, in fact. I felt normal and I stopped coughing. But I was so afraid of getting that angry again. I would rather get hit, be hurt, then unleash that once more."

"But… you can use it now?" Nora asked.

"Mostly, yeah," the blond replied. "Father said it might because I'm older, or because I have my Aura unlocked. Apparently, it's something I inherited from his family."

"Ooh!" Nora declared standing up as well. "This is awesome! Jaune can finally beat anyone with that!" She paused before placing her index finger on her cheek. "Right? Well, maybe not Pyrrha, but…" Her eyes narrowed and looked at Jaune. "Hey, if we fight, who's gonna win?"

Jaune took a step back, raising his two hands defensively. "Whoa, there. I'm still not comfortable using it against people." He looked back at the practise arena "I think I still need more discipline and self control before using it on spars. Kinda lost it in the end there."

"Meditation might work," Ren suggested. "With the self control at least. That, I can help you with."

"Thanks, Ren," Jaune replied, smiling softly.

"So if you can control it, can we fight?" Nora asked, beaming.

"I—maybe?" Jaune replied, unsure. "I mean, it's not just control. I can't keep it up indefinitely. It tires me out for some reason."

Pyrrha nodded. "Understandable. I, too, used anger when I fought, especially during my earlier days in the Mistral Tournament." She looked at her leader. "I know that it's useful in combat, but it also comes with many drawbacks. I will make changes our training regiment, Jaune. I'll ensure that you can use this Rage effectively."

Jaune swallowed. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

"Yes," she replied with a beatific smile. "However, know that it only hurts because I care."

"Uh, well," Jaune muttered, scratching the nape of his neck, "maybe we should wait until Crocea Mors is done with its repairs? Right?"

Before Pyrrha could reply, Nora interjected, "Hey, isn't that due today?"

Jaune's eyes widened. "Wait, what time is it?" He scrambled towards his scroll, glancing at the holographic screen. "Crap! I'm late!" He looked at his team. "I'll meet you guys at class! See you all later!"

Watching him running towards the exit, the rest of team JNPR looked at each other, before they began smiling.

"There goes our leader," Ren said.

Pyrrha just looked at the back of Jaune. Yes, he has changed. He now was willing to accept help, not only from her but also from his team, and even opened up to them. Yet, he was still the same. She looked at the rest of her teammates, probably more united than before. She tipped the bottle water in her mouth, a small smile on her face. Things were going very well.

"Hey, hold on," Nora declared, frowning. "If Jaune was so sick until a few months before Beacon, that means he couldn't have attended combat school, right?"

Pyrrha choked on her water.

Ren nodded, suddenly looking contemplative. "True, and I doubt there's a Huntsman or Huntress that would take on an apprentice for such a short period of time."

"So… how did Jaune get enough credits to get accepted into Beacon?" Nora finished.

Well, shit, Pyrrha thought uncharacteristically.

* * *

Jaune was different. That was the forefront of Ruby's mind. Not completely different, she amended silently, watching him argue with the weaponsmith as they began to haggle the price.

"Oh come on, it was only ten minutes!" he exclaimed, raising his hands.

"Ten minutes," the weaponsmith said, crossing her arms across her chest, "one hour, one minute, one second, late is late."

"One second?" Jaune shouted in disbelief. He shook his head and pointed an accusing finger at her. "This is criminal! Criminal, I say!"

Ruby couldn't help but giggle. Jaune was still a cheapskate that he wasn't even willing to shell a measly one-hundred lien for a late fee.

Still, her eyes roamed at his back. He wasn't wearing his uniform today, and neither his usual black hoodie nor his armor. It was a simple white shirt, moist with sweat. She also noted that his back was broader now, and the muscles of his arm carried tension that were absent before.

"Fine!" Jaune muttered as he dug through his pockets before handing over the money. "Here!"

"Thanks for doing business," the weaponsmith replied with a big smile. "Give me a moment, and I'll have your weapon back."

When she disappeared to a room behind the counter, Jaune muttered inaudibly. Ruby took that moment to walk up to behind him, only to hear the last part of his rant.

"—why is there even a late fee anyway?"

"That's because the Smithy in Beacon doesn't have enough space to store a lot of weapons," Ruby replied, a small smile forming when Jaune almost jumped from his place before turning around. "The late fees are so they won't get bogged down with weapons that lazy students forget to claim."

"Ruby?" Jaune asked, then his eyes widened before looking behind her.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, glancing out behind her.

"Nothing in particular," he replied with a shrug.

Ruby just stared at him for a moment before shrugging. "So," she began slowly, "been a while, huh?"

"What do you mean?" Jaune asked, looking at her confused.

"I mean, we don't hang out anymore," Ruby said.

"We saw each other yesterday."

"In class!" she countered, poking at his shoulder before blinking. She poked it again, eyes widening.

"Ruby?" Jaune called, frowning.

"Wow," she muttered before shaking her head. "Anyway! You!" Her index finger opted to just poke towards his face instead. "You stopped hanging out with us! Our teams don't even study together anymore. I kept waiting and waiting! Even today you and your whole team weren't in the library! What, are you guys too busy for us now, Vomit Boy?"

"As a matter of fact, Crater Face, we are," Jaune replied with an easy grin. "Training up for the upcoming Tournament, you know?"

"That's not an excuse!" Ruby declared, cheeks puffed as she began to poke the young man on his sides.

"Hey, cut it out!" he laughed, going to a defensive position.

"Nope!" Her arms blurred red as she used two of her hands now to continue her pointed attacks. "Not until you apologize for being a jerky-jerk and promise to hang out with us again!"

"I'll check with my schedule—ah, stop it!" Jaune gave out one more last laugh before trapping her arms with his. "Okay, okay," he said ruefully, shaking his head with a smile. "I'm sorry for being a jerky-jerk, okay? And yes, I'll make more time."

Ruby smiled, pink tingeing her cheeks. "Promise?"

"Promise," Jaune replied easily, letting go of her arms, but still taking a defensive stance. "Besides, I gotta ask Yang out anyway." He blinked before his mouth opened for a second before closing. "Okay, that… came out wrong."

Ruby giggled. "Are we expecting a return of Jaune, the singing sensation?"

"Nothing like that!" Jaune protested, shaking his head. "I'm… I guess I want to try my hand out with unarmed combat. Ren said her style suits me better, so… yeah." Then, his eyes narrowed. "Don't tell Yang I accidentally said I was going to ask her out."

"Cookies."

He glared at her. "Really?" He sighed dramatically. "Fine."

"The good ones, okay?"

"Yes, yes, the really nice, warm, gooey ones that make your insides tingle," Jaune promised.

"Good." She looked at him for a moment and frowned. "I really thought you were angry at us, Jaune."

He gave her a small, sad smile. "I'm not angry with you, you know."

"Just me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Then, her eyes suddenly widened. "It's Weiss, isn't it?"

Jaune grunted. "I don't want to talk about it."

Ruby looked away. "I'm… sorry, Jaune."

"Not your fault, Ruby," he replied softly.

Ruby looked at Jaune once more, trying to think of something to say, only for the two of them to jump when something heavy hit the counter behind Jaune.

"One sword with a transforming sheathe," the weaponsmith declared. She gave them both a sly look. "Not disturbing anything, am I?"

"Nope," both of them said, with Jaune's hands going towards his weapon. Ruby noted the blond's face as he held Crocea Mors, and blinked when she saw him smile, eyes closed, and head lifted high. For some reason, she got the impression that Jaune went somewhere far away.

"Ah, yes," Jaune said. He turned to the weaponsmith and nodded. "It's fixed. Thanks."

"Fixed?" Ruby asked.

Before Jaune could reply, the weaponsmith spoke, "Glad you liked it. Now get out of here."

Once the two stepped out of the shop, Ruby looked at Crocea Mors once more. "So… was it damaged when you fought your father last week?"

"Fought?" Jaune asked, looking away suspiciously. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" she asked with a knowing smile. "You come back to Beacon with low Aura and had to be brought to Medical. Plus Pyrrha mentioned she found you in a place that looked like a bomb went off. Come on, Jaune. I'm not an idiot, you know."

"Psh, of course not," he replied, rubbing Ruby's head a little too roughly that she had to shout.

"Hey!"

He laughed and moved away when she began to threaten him with her pokes once more. Once they finally settled down and began walking again, he continued. "Crocea Mors was incomplete."

"Whatcha mean?"

"There was actually another transformation it had, but the mechanism was broken." Jaune raised his sheathed sword and Ruby looked at it, confusion still in her eyes. Then, with simple motion, the sheath suddenly expanded, not to a full heater shield, but just enough to increase the width of the blade before they jerked upwards.

"Whoa!" Ruby declared, realizing the weapon was now broader and wider.

Jaune said nothing, just nodding at his weapon with a big smile.

Ruby stared at the her fellow team leader. Jaune was definitely different. However, she smiled, realizing that it was the good kind of different.

* * *

Everything was turning strange, Jaune thought as he and his team rushed towards Goodwitch's class.

The talk with Ruby, while good, also cut whatever free time Jaune had short. He had made a mad dash to his team's room after that, barely unlocking the door before he pushed it away roughly and went straight to the closet for a fresh uniform. For some reason, his teammates had been silent, maybe hesitant. Pyrrha had a solemn look on her face while Ren and Nora had stared at him strangely.

Still no one had said anything, which he was thankful for. They were already running late as it is.

When they arrived, their usual seats were occupied, but Ruby seemed to have taken the opportunity to make him keep his promise by waving at them, pointing at the four free seats next to her team.

"Finally! Front seats!" Nora declared as she climbed down the stairs. Jaune expected Ren to make a remark, but he only found him staring at him.

"What?" Jaune asked.

Ren opened his mouth, only to shake his head and follow his partner.

Jaune blinked, looking at Pyrrha, who was also shaking her head.

"Come on, Jaune," she had said.

As the two approached Team RWBY, he noted that Blake was reading a book, Yang giving him a friendly wave, while Ruby stood up and pointed at the other two free seats. He noted it was the farthest from the rest of them, farthest from Weiss and Neptune.

When he walked in front of the duo, his chest burned. He frowned for a moment, standing stiff for so long that Weiss finally deemed to face him, eyes narrowed.

"What do you want, Arc?" she asked, annoyed.

That fire burned even hotter, but he kept it from spreading with a deep breath. "Nothing, Schnee. Hey, Neptune."

Jaune moved once more, ignoring the surprised look he got from Yang, Blake, Weiss, and Neptune. He saw Ruby wince, but still gave him a small smile which he returned.

"Are you okay?" Pyrrha asked as they took their seat.

"Yes," Jaune replied neutrally, earning a worried look from her.

He stayed quiet, letting his team do the interacting with Ruby's, staring at the arena. His hand went to Crocea Mors and he found himself breathing easier as its song rang through his mind.

Forgive or ignore her, his father had said. Seeing her once more, feeling the fire being stoked deep inside his heart, he realized the former was easier said than done. That was fine. He could always try the latter. After all, he had more things to worry about than just one person.

Goodwitch walked up to the center of the arena, her eyes going towards him at once. "Mister Arc."

He looked up from the arena and at her. Her expression was stoic. "Yes, Professor Goodwitch?"

"I heard that the repairs on your weapon is done," she continued. "Are you able to participate in duels once more?"

Jaune found himself grinning. It was strange how Beacon felt different and changed. Before last week, he would always feel nervous when he was called to the arena, how his stomach would dive into a deep pit when he had to step forward.

Now, those were gone, replaced with a song on his head and fire at his heart. His reply came out so confident and so sure that it made a few people, more so those around him, blink.

"I'm ready to go whenever you want, Professor."

Yes, it was strange, but… he could work with that.


	5. Epilogue

Epilogue

Ozpin heard a bell rung as he entered the cafe, but ignored that in favor of enjoying the comfortable smell of coffee and pastries. He took a breath, taking the mixing scents in before scanning his surroundings. He saw a waitress, whose eyes went wide on his arrival.

"Headmaster," she said, a hitch in her tone. She took a moment before she bowed. "Good evening. How can I help you?"

Ozpin waved her off. "Just visiting a friend."

"Do you need help, sir?"

Ozpin just shook his head before moving past her.

The place was almost empty and his eyes strayed towards one of the deeper, more isolated corners of the place. He smiled, seeing Atreus on his seat, drinking something hot. Yet, when a few customers greeted him as he went by, Atreus never reacted. He still sat there, quietly, patiently. It was as if he was actually waiting for Ozpin to show up.

That had him frowning.

He didn't bother greeting Atreus as he faced him, taking a momentary pause to look him over before sitting down. A waitress appeared on their side, and before Ozpin could tell her his order, she put down a cup of steaming, fresh coffee in front of him.

He studied the cup, frown forming in his face. "Is this—?"

"Your usual," Atreus finished, finally looking up and giving Ozpin a very amused grin.

The Headmaster sighed. "Dealing with your kind is an exercise of frustration."

"I thought you had known that," Atreus replied, "considering how those two idiotic brothers did to you."

Ozpin glared at the man. "You were waiting for me." Atreus just nodded, making the Headmaster sigh. "And here I thought I finally got one over you."

The younger-looking man took his cup and drank from it. "In what way?"

"Your son," Ozpin began, cradling his own gently. "When he first applied for Beacon, I had wondered if I done something to catch your attention. You had sent your daughters to the other Academies, yet here was your son—" he sighed "—presenting me those transcript of his."

"You thought I was pulling your leg or something to that effect?" Atreus asked.

"Initially," Ozpin replied, frowning. "However, I kept watch, sifting through any information I could glean from the messages he sent, as well as the calls he made."

"Any normal person would consider that a breach of privacy," Atreus pointed.

"Normal being the operative word," Ozpin countered.

"And?"

Ozpin sighed. "Are you looking to humiliate me, Atreus?"

"Not quite. I'm just honestly curious of your thought process in all of this."

The Headmaster glared at the man before taking a sip from his cup. The strong flavor lifted him up. "Everything pointed out that Jaune had run away from you, but using his real name and contacting you afterwards? It took me a while but I concluded that he was doing something without your approval."

"A correct conclusion," Atreus replied. "Is that why you kept him, Ozpin? Did my son's rebellion tug your heartstrings?"

"I kept him because he has potential."

"Liar," Atreus countered with a small smile. "You kept him because he was my son. That alone would give you a lot of cards to play with. It was rather cute, though, making that proposal. You most likely earned Jaune's favor when you told him that you were willing to keep him in Beacon." His small smile turned to a smirk. "Of course, the caveat was that he had to convince me."

"I would rather not bring an god's wrath down on the Academy, Atreus," Ozpin replied.

"I'm an Outsider, Ozpin," the Arc replied with a small smirk. "Oath-bound to not interfere with this world."

The headmaster frowned. "You'd find a way, you Trickster. Besides, whether you forced him back home or letting him stay here would at least tell me something."

"Now that the whole thing has played out, what have you learned?"

"You want him to stay at Beacon for reasons unknown," Ozpin replied before finishing his coffee.

"It is not that I want him to stay," Atreus corrected. "It is that his stay is his choice, and forcing him away would be more detrimental than not."

Ozpin stared. "You pushed him hard today. Prodding on his insecurities, on his fears. The fact that your son came out even stronger than before as a consequence tells me that it wasn't done in random or by chance."

"A father's duty is to prepare their children, to harden them to survive the cruelties of the world."

Ozpin scoffed. "Don't treat me like an idiot, Atreus. What's the real reason?"

Atreus looked at him, eyes narrowing. "You were a father once, Ozpin. Or have you forgotten?"

"That was a long time ago."

"And your rotten attitude hasn't changed one bit," Atreus replied with a shrug. "What makes you so sure that what I said wasn't true?"

Ozpin frowned, staring at his empty cup for a moment. "You still would rather take Jaune away then."

"That is a given."

"Why?" Ozpin asked.

"Because I know you well enough," Atreus said simply. "And I have a distaste for manipulative old men that have knowledge to be a threat." He crossed his arms. "Take my son for instance. You brought him into Beacon without proper credentials. You put him in charge of a team that had outclassed him by strength and skill, whilst also watching him closely enough to move immediately when you realized I called him. Then, you used his transcripts to force him to face me, all while giving him something to strive for and earning his favor."

"You think too badly of me," Ozpin replied with a glare.

"It is true I am biased," Atreus conceded. "The circumstances are too suspect for me to think otherwise, though. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm right. Time will decide."

Ozpin and Atreus stared at each other for what seemed like hours before the former grunted. "You call me manipulative, yet when I asked you the reasons for pushing Jaune as you did, you never outright denied my claims that there was more to it than that."

A grin appeared on his opponent's face. "You were always sharp, Ozpin. However, here's the difference. If I am manipulating my son, it is solely because he is my family. And I have not lied saying that I am looking out for him with the best of intentions. You, however, manipulate everyone you can, reaching out all over the world, to different Kingdoms, butting in things that should no longer be your business."

"It must be nice to not think of the problems of the world," Ozpin mocked.

"Problems that those two idiots started. Maybe you should have told them where to shove it when they came to you."

The headmaster scoffed. "Easy for you to say, Atreus. I am not foolish enough to defy gods."

"Yet foolish enough to risk Vale's destruction?"

Ozpin straightened, eyes narrowing. "What are you—?"

"Your enemy is on the move," Atreus interjected.

The headmaster blinked before nodding, slowly. "I've suspected as much," he replied. "We are prepared for it."

"No you are not," the Arc patriarch said coldly. "If you were, I would have never made that call to Jaune."

Brown eyes narrowed. "What do you know?"

"A lot of things," Atreus replied enigmatically. "Unfortunately, the details are always sparse. Always the general picture. Suffering, heartbreaks, agony, and Beacon and the City of Vale on fire."

Ozpin's grip on his cane tightened.

"Whatever you are planning, Ozpin, I suggest you redouble your efforts. And keep a closer watch on your own home."

With that, Atreus stood up. Frowning, Ozpin asked, "Is your son going to get involved?"

Atreus laughed. "That is a stupid question, you cursed fool. You know about my kind. Even if we don't look for trouble, it always finds us." With that, he walked away, leaving the Headmaster contemplative on his seat.

* * *

The Leviathan made its way to its placeholder, just above the fireplace. Atreus stared at it longingly before shaking head. Hand still on the wooden length, he placed the weapon on the hooks and pushed down.

There was a crack in the stone, a grinding of gears as the fireplace suddenly moved aside, revealing a narrow pathway lit with dust lamps. He strode in, foots echoing around his stone surroundings until he came to an opening.

The room inside was also brightly lit, but not by dust. Along the stone walls were runes of his homeland, language lost in the annals of history. Ancient armor of different metals and makes were spread all around, each with their own battle scars and designs. Different weapons, ranging from bows, axes, swords, and daggers were hanging from the walls.

However, Atreus' attention was solely on the table at the deepest part of the room. On top of it were dolls made from carved wood, each depicting a scene of a story that he had remade from his dreams.

He stared at the most left scene, a man and a woman holding a small boy with golden hair. The next had that same figure in bed, redness painted around his mouth. Shaking his head, Atreus looked at the center, which depicted the man from the first scene fighting against the boy with golden hair, though taller now. He smiled, seeing an axe clash with a sword and shield.

"Atreus?"

The man slowly turned and saw his beautiful wife walk in, her long locks of yellow hair ruffled behind her. Her eyes were moist, lips quivering, and arms shaking.

"Cerry," he replied, giving her a sad smile and shaking his head.

She broke down, a small cry escaping her lips as her tears flowed freely. She rushed at Atreus and hugged him hard.

"I'm so sorry," Atreus said softly, hugging her back.

"You warned me," she cried. "You told me. I didn't want to believe it. Oh, my boy. My dear sweet boy."

"He's stronger than you think," Atreus said, patting Ceres' head.

"Did you tell him? About his—?" She swallowed.

Atreus shook his head. "He's not ready yet," he replied. "Besides, there was no need. He fought me off without succumbing to the sickness."

"How is that possible?" she asked, eyes wide. "You said you only got sick because you hadn't known about your true nature."

"He's not me," Atreus said. Then he smiled. "Thank goodness for that."

"He will hate us," she whispered. "Once he finds out."

"He will hate me," he corrected. "And I will not blame him. But he is your son, Ceres. He will understand once we explain everything. Once he knows we done everything to hide his presence, to protect him."

Ceres just cried harder, eyes looking towards the most right side of the table. There, a man with golden hair faced an imposing feminine figure wreathed in shadows, his round shield at the ready and a golden sword pointed towards the sky.

Both parents would find sleep hard to come by.

* * *

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _Thus the short story ends. I'm working on a sequel, while trying to get more ideas for the Red Knight as well. However, just know in advance that I'm not quite sure when I'll be able to deliver. My eyes are getting all wonky, my vision being out of focus a lot of times even with glasses and that gives me quite a headache. At least my beta is finally less busy, so I can finally make edits to any published works I have so far. I hope you guys enjoyed it, as rough as the chapters are. Thank you for reading, and Merry Christmas._


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